131. If Zhang Yu is doing well, he feels troubled.

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【Holy crap! Zhao De’s reaction is lightning fast, he’s definitely keeping pace.】
【I just listened to Ji Fanxing’s track. Even though it’s pure instrumental and played on the pipa, I finished it without even realizing. Now, let’s see what Zhao De has to offer.】
【Pure instrumental? Sounds boring. Not really interested. I’ll listen to Zhao De’s "Carefree and Unfettered" first.】
……
Ji Fanxing also saw the new song Zhao De released, a playful curve appearing at the corner of her lips.
Her opponent was quick to react; it was a passing grade, barely.
Opening Zhao De’s "Carefree and Unfettered," the drum beats in the intro were loud enough to nearly shatter her eardrums.
Ji Fanxing turned down the volume without changing her expression. She evaluated the song: the rhythm was catchy enough; upon first listen, it easily made people want to sway along.
After listening to half of it, she turned off her phone.
If one were to talk about Zhao De—or more accurately, Qu Feiyang behind him—he certainly had some cunning, knowing to find a style that was the complete antithesis of "Pipa Language" to suppress it.
It was a pity. Although the rhythm of "Carefree and Unfettered" was decent, the mixing of the accompaniment was imperfect. The sounds of various instruments were muddled together, making it sound rather noisy.
The frequency of the drum beats, meant to be the highlight, was slightly too high, leading to a repetitive rhythm that easily grew tiresome.
The average person would likely get a headache after listening to it a few times.
Ji Fanxing predicted that compared to the two, "Pipa Language" would definitely be at a disadvantage at the start, but over time, the contrast would only highlight its beauty.
The exchange conference had only just begun; there was plenty of time.
To promote public participation and align with the barrier-free voting rules, this year’s conference launched a limited-time free streaming event subsidized by the conference officials. Without needing to download anything, netizens could listen to the conference music for free via a mini-program or website.
Currently, only two songs were available, "Pipa Language" and "Unfettered World." Combined with the wager between Ji Fanxing and Zhao De, netizens naturally listened to both.
Before long, the comments section for "Carefree and Unfettered" became lively and filled with praise.
【These drums are energetic! This rhythm is so hyped!】
【As expected of Qu Feiyang’s prize pupil, this song is on fire!】
【Compared to "Pipa Language," I prefer "Carefree and Unfettered." This is the kind of music young people should listen to!】
【The sense of rhythm is so strong, I’m already swaying along. Zhao De’s songs never disappoint!】
【"Pipa Language" is okay, but it feels too soft and sluggish. Zhao De’s song hits harder.】
In stark contrast was the rather cold comments section for "Pipa Language."
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【Why is it just an instrumental track? There are no lyrics at all.】
【"Carefree and Unfettered" gives me a headache. "Pipa Language" has a much more beautiful melody that touches the heart.】
【The pure pipa instrumental is truly beautiful! It has made me even more determined to learn the pipa!】
……
An hour later, the vote count for "Carefree and Unfettered" showed 200,000, while "Pipa Language" had only 122,000. Zhao De’s votes were nearly half again as many as Ji Fanxing’s.
It could be said that this was the first Waterloo Ji Fanxing had encountered in a music competition since her debut.
At Tenghai Film and Television, Bi Deng watched the real-time voting data on his computer screen, a subtle, indiscernible curve appearing on his lips.
"Young people always need to suffer a bit before they understand the immensity of heaven and earth."
He had no desire to see Ji Fanxing soar to the skies during the conference. That brat was already arrogant enough; if her reputation were to climb even higher, she would be even harder to manage.
"Knock, knock, knock." A knock came at the door. Bi Deng closed his laptop and looked toward the visitor.
Feng Xinliu, who was usually arrogant on set, was now all smiles, creeping up to Bi Deng with a fawning tone.
"Hehe, sorry to disturb you, Vice President Bi. You’re looking as dashing as ever after these few days."
Seeing it was him, Bi Deng roughly guessed what it was about.
Feng Xinliu’s "Martial Arts World" had finished production, and this man had always been a glory-seeker; it was likely about the film’s release.
Sure enough, seeing that Bi Deng remained silent, Feng Xinliu rubbed his hands together.
"Vice President Bi... Zhang Yu, the director of Film Group One, is resting on his laurels because of his seniority. He slacks off every day on set, and his efficiency is too low. The stuff he shoots, no one watches! It’s a complete waste of the company’s money! I suggest cutting his film’s theater slots in half! Give them to those who actually need them!"
You mean give them to yourself, Bi Deng thought, seeing through Feng Xinliu’s little scheme at a glance.
Zhang Yu had been at Tenghai for 25 years and was a hero of the company’s early development.
After Qian Huanxi took over the company, he failed to recognize this gem, feeling only that the films Zhang Yu shot were too expensive, and stopped giving him important tasks.
Word was that he had recently almost entirely self-funded a passion project. Unexpectedly, this film’s release schedule clashed with Feng Xinliu’s.
Bi Deng pondered.
The Boss’s new entertainment company in the Dragon Kingdom was already making progress. In the future, it would certainly need talent like Zhang Yu. Zhang Yu had deep emotional ties to Tenghai and wouldn’t leave easily.
The timing was perfect; just as he was getting sleepy, someone brought a pillow. The knife for the execution had delivered itself.
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Thinking of this, he replied with a look of agreement.
"That makes sense. Then tell him that if his film’s box office doesn't meet the target this month, his theater slots will be reduced."
Bi Deng’s words were very clever.
The month would end in two days, and the film was launching tomorrow.
Whether this meant Zhang Yu had to meet the box office target in a single day, or during the film’s entire run this month, depended entirely on how the person delivering the message phrased it.
Feng Xinliu was stunned for a moment, then a look of wild joy appeared on his face. "Yes! Vice President Bi, I’ll go handle it right now!"
Tenghai Film and Television, Film Group One.
Fifteen years ago, Zhang Yu, a newcomer director who had soared to win the Dragon Kingdom’s highest film award, the Bauhinia Award, for the film "Fog Pursuit," was staring at his computer.
On the screen were the national theater reservation figures for "My Home," a film he had spent three full years shooting.
Looking at the miserable three-digit number, Zhang Yu furrowed his brows. He reached for another cigarette, but the scorching heat at his fingertip made him realize the cigarette had already burned out.
He listlessly flicked the butt into the ashtray and simply shut down the computer, refusing to look at the wretched data anymore.
"Director Zhang! Director Feng is here! He seems to be in a very good mood. What should we do?"
In the past, the film department at Tenghai was not divided into groups.
At that time, Feng Xinliu, who had proposed compressing production cycles, appropriately lowering quality to increase output, was not valued by Zhang Yu, who held the opposite view.
In a fit of anger, Feng Xinliu bypassed Zhang Yu and communicated directly with the boss, Zhao Huanxi. Zhao Huanxi found his concepts very interesting and gave him a quarter to prove himself.
During those three months, Feng Xinliu went all out. He worked overtime every day, ignoring plot logic and focusing only on stimulating scenes, churning out five films of different styles in one go.
The five films were released simultaneously; although the reviews were mediocre, the revenue in the quarterly report directly exceeded that of the entire previous half-year.
Qian Huanxi, who only cared about money, was naturally overjoyed and made Feng Xinliu the head of Film Group Two.
Since then, Feng Xinliu had made it a point to oppose Zhang Yu at every turn.
When Zhang Yu was doing well, he felt miserable.
If Feng Xinliu was in a good mood, it surely meant that Zhang Yu was about to be in trouble.
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